Just Another Conversation in the Basement
by ytteb
Summary: Tony pays Gibbs yet another visit in his basement. Gibbs is bewildered. Tony is DiNozzo. One shot.


_AN: teeny tiny spoilers for season 11 episode 'Devil's triad'_

* * *

Special Agent Gibbs smiled as he looked at the pile of newly delivered lumber lying on the floor of his dimly lit cellar. So much potential locked up and just waiting for his touch to be released. He ran an appreciative hand over a plank and considered what it might be asking to be made into and then, while he waited for inspiration, he poured himself a shot of the good bourbon Abby had given him for Christmas. "You'll like it, Gibbs," she had said earnestly, "it's made from organic corn and other, well, stuff. And it's matured to the sound of whale music. It makes it mellow and rich and it will do good things to your mojo. Not that your mojo needs good things doing to it, but it's always good to look after your mojo." Gibbs had thanked her suitably and, to his surprise, enjoyed the liquor.

As he took the first assessing sip, he heard the sound of familiar steps coming down the basement steps. Gibbs looked up and was slightly puzzled as he saw well-worn brown loafers, smart grey pants and a shabby much loved football shirt make their appearance, all worn by a slightly flustered looking Tony DiNozzo.

"Hey, Boss."

"Hey."

"Drinking the Welsh bourbon again?"

"What?"

"Abby said the bourbon was matured to the sound of Welsh music," said Tony.

"Music of whales," corrected Gibbs.

"That's what I said."

"Music of the whales who swim in the sea, DiNozzo. Not the other sort of Wales."

"You sure, Boss?" said Tony who seemed prepared to argue the point. For answer Gibbs thrust the bottle at him showing the label with little whales happily squirting bourbon through their blowholes. "Oh," said Tony reluctantly admitting defeat, "I guess that makes more sense."

"Ya think?" said Gibbs.

"Not really, Boss. But trust Abby to find eccentric alcohol for you."

"What you want, DiNozzo?" asked Gibbs.

"Er," said Tony, "well … you know … it's like this … hey, you've got some more lumber …"

"DiNozzo," snapped Gibbs, "spit it out!"

"Right. OK, well, it's Ziva."

Gibbs was surprised, "what about her?"

"I can't get her out of my head. I'm worried. I think I'll have to go looking for her. I can't concentrate on what I'm doing. I don't know how long I'll need to be away but I have to find her. Sorry, Boss."

"Bull!" said Gibbs succinctly.

"But, Boss, I mean it. I've got to know where she is."

"I'll give you her address if you really want it, DiNozzo. You won't need to take any time off. She's a couple days away."

"Oh," said Tony in a shocked voice, "oh, well that's good then." A mixture of emotions crossed his face with relief and irritation vying for top spot. "So I won't need to resign to go and find her. That's good. Perhaps I'll look her up one day."

"Have a drink," said Gibbs in an unexpectedly friendly voice.

"Thanks, Boss," said Tony. Gibbs wasn't sure if it was the comfort or the stimulation of alcohol which he needed.

"How d'you think Bishop's working out?" asked Gibbs.

"Good," said Tony absently.

"She seems to like working with the team," said Gibbs, "she told me about the cupcake BOLO thing."

"Third time lucky," said Tony.

"Eh?"

"When I gave Kate a 'happy first BOLO cupcake with candle' she called me a patronising chauvinistic dinosaur and gave me a ten minute lecture on gender equality in the workplace," said Tony glumly.

"And the second time?" asked Gibbs.

"Ziva threatened to shove it, plus my severed hand, into an orifice which I don't think would have been approved by the sexual harassment lady lecturer," said Tony even more glumly.

"But Bishop didn't mind?"

"No, I figured she'd be a cupcake and candle sort of girl. I mean woman."

"That's good then," said Gibbs.

"No, it's not," wailed Tony dramatically.

"Why not?"

"Because she's married! And there's rule 12. But she's wonderful. That flowing blonde hair. And she's so clever. And she has that adorable little frown when she's concentrating, although I think she'll have to be careful that she doesn't develop a frown line when she gets older. I wonder what sort of night cream she uses?" Tony looked up and saw a less than adorable little frown on his Boss's face, "not that that's important, of course. I'd still think she was beautiful even if she has frown lines. I just can't get her …"

"Out of your head. I know," said Gibbs.

"I'll have to leave, Boss, it's against so many rules. Your rules, the rules of decency, the rules of morality, the rules of …"

"Crap!" said Gibbs.

"Rules of crap?" said Tony innocently, "I didn't know there were any."

"You're not in love with Bishop," said Gibbs firmly.

"It might not be love," agreed Tony judiciously, "perhaps it's more _in lust._ But I know I need to get away."

"Rubbish," said Gibbs, "you're not in love _or_ lust with Bishop. You treat her like a kid sister."

"I do?" said Tony, "wow, I've never had a sister. Boss, are you sure that's how you're meant to treat a sister? I'm sure my feelings for Bishop are nothing like Ross had for Monica or …"

"What are you talking about, DiNozzo?" demanded Gibbs.

"Oh, sorry, Boss. That was a TV reference. 'Friends', big in the …"

"I've been married, DiNozzo, I know what 'Friends' was. What's all this nonsense about Bishop?"

"It's not nonsense," said Tony stoutly, "I've got feelings for Bishop …"

"Really?" said Gibbs.

"Really," affirmed Tony.

"So you call the _love of your life_ by her surname?" asked Gibbs.

"Oh," said Tony as his face fell.

"What's going on, DiNozzo?"

"You're right, Boss. I could never fall for a blonde."

"Good."

"It's McGee."

"What's McGee?" said Gibbs suspiciously.

"The love of my life," said Tony, "Timothy. It's such a beautiful name. It seems to sum him up so well. McGorgeous. I look across the squad room and I see him there, running those long fingers over his keyboard and I imagine what it would be like to be that keyboard. His …"

"STOP!" shouted Gibbs.

"I know this comes a shock, Boss," said Tony sadly, "but I feel that I've struggled with the pain long enough. While I was able to sabotage his relationships I thought I had a chance but I can see that this _thing_ with Delilah is the real deal. I have to go away, Boss. Seeing him every day, knowing that my love is doomed … well, it kills me a bit more each day."

"DiNozzo! You're not in love with McGee! For a start, you're not gay."

"Well, I didn't realise I was," tried Tony, "but the first time I saw that chubby earnest little face I knew something was up. And then, when he spoke Klingon, I knew I was lost."

"Tony," said Gibbs striving for calm, "you're not leaving because you're in love with McGee. Trust me."

Tony seemed to admit defeat and heaved a sigh. He opened his mouth to speak but Gibbs got there first, "And if you're thinking of saying that it's _me_ who you have a hopeless passion for, then you'll realise that Ziva doing that thing with the cupcake and the severed hand would have been nothing compared to the pain of the head slap I'll give you!"

"Wow, Boss," said Tony in an impressed voice, "I think that's the longest sentence you ever spoken to me. But no, I'm not in love with you."

"Good," said Gibbs taking a restorative sip of the mellow bourbon.

"Not that you're not a fine figure of a man," said Tony quickly, "and if I was that way inclined you'd be hard to resist."

"Thanks," said Gibbs drily.

"But," said Tony heavily, "you _are_ responsible for me developing this passion that seems to be changing my life."

"What?" said Gibbs uneasily.

"There's a timber appreciation course running in Baltimore," said Tony, "and I feel that I have to go on it. You've given me such a love for lumber, Boss. And I thank you for it from the bottom of my heart. But you can only take me so far. I have to go beyond you now and explore this new … this new … delight further. Ouch!" Tony yelped as he put a reverent hand on Gibbs' heap of planks, "I got a splinter! Damned wood!"

Gibbs went and got a pair of tweezers, he gently, but firmly, removed the splinter from Tony's finger, applied antiseptic and put a band aid on it.

"Thanks, Boss," said a chastened Tony.

"Got some way to go with that wood love," observed Gibbs.

"Yeah," agreed Tony.

"So?" asked Gibbs.

"Fornell offered me a job," said Tony.

Gibbs laughed. "He's always offering you a job," he said.

"He told you?"

"Yep. He'd probably wet his pants if you said yes."

"What?" said Tony in an offended voice, "why does he offer me jobs if he so scared I'd make a mess of them?"

"He'd wet his pants because he knows I'd go after him with my Sig if you said yes," said Gibbs.

"Oh," said Tony in a mollified tone.

"But he's not going to be wetting his pants this time, is he?" said Gibbs.

"No," agreed Tony.

"So, what's this about, Tony?"

"Did you know that the other teams have renamed the MCRT?"

"What?" asked Gibbs ready to get angry.

"Massively Clever Response Team," said Tony.

"Oh," said Gibbs in a rather pleased voice, "don't think you needed to be worried about telling me that."

Tony continued as if Gibbs hadn't spoken. "Because they all know that Tim is a McGenius and now you've added the Bishop brain."

"So?" said Gibbs, "you said that she's good."

"She is," Tony concurred, "she's another phenomenon. Massive brain, superior analytical skills, good in the field and a sweet smile. Although I am worried about that frown line."

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak but Tony hurried on, "so Tim and Bishop are the wunderkind. Abby doing impossible things in her lab just fuelled by CafPows. Ducky talking to the dead. Well, you see where I'm going with this?"

"No," said Gibbs honestly.

"And then there's me," said Tony, "the _slightly brighter than most and can run quite fast _guy. Don't really fit with the _Massively Clever_ team, do I?"

"DiNozzo …"

"I guess there's some sort of IQ quota for the teams," said Tony sadly, "and I'm keeping the team's total down to a manageable level."

"Tony, what makes you think it's not _my _IQ that's bringing down the average?"

"Ah yes, but one sip of an obscenely strong coffee, a pensive stare across the squad room and you've cracked yet another case. I don't have any superpowers to contribute."

"DiNozzo, this is more bull. You don't seriously think there's an IQ or superpower quota for the team, do you?"

"Might be," said Tony, "let's face it, you'd enjoy bucking the trend by having a donut like me on the team."

"You really think I'd have a donut on my team?" demanded Gibbs.

"No, Boss," said Tony as he raised his head to look Gibbs in the eyes for the first time since arriving in the basement, "but it's time for me to leave."

"To do what?" asked Gibbs, "you get that job you went for today?"

"How did you know?"

"Smart pants that go with that new suit you've been wearing. Guessing you got home, started to get changed, stopped half way and decided to come and tell me."

"See, superpowers," said Tony.

"So?"

"Yeah. I got the job. Baltimore PD. Captain of the Homicide Division."

"You gonna take it?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes, I am," said Tony, "I was happy there once. They remember me, think highly of me. They headhunted me, you know."

"Is that enough?" probed Gibbs.

"Yes, I've spent enough years following, Boss. It's time to lead and I think I can do a good job."

"So, what was all this _yabba yabba_ about?"

"Building up to it, I guess," admitted Tony, "and your face was a picture."

"I knew," admitted Gibbs.

"Like I said, superpowers," said Tony.

"And you knew that I knew," observed Gibbs.

"Yes."

Gibbs got up and went to stand in front of Tony who unconsciously braced himself for a head slap,

"We'll miss you," said Gibbs. He gripped Tony's shoulder, "You'll do …" Tony smiled nervously, "… a good job, Anthony."

Tony's smile lit up the basement, "Thanks, Jethro."


End file.
